[Optional Quest Branch 1: Turn it into soul lamp oil. Reward: +2 days of Soul Lamp usage.]
[Optional Quest Branch 2: Feed it to the little one in the backyard. Reward: +50 Affinity with the little one.]
[Optional Quest Branch 3: Soak it in reagent as a collection. Reward: +10 Specimen Making XP.]
[Optional Quest Branch 4: Wait for the Pig-Headed Fiend to pick up his daughter. Reward: To be analyzed…]
Lynn stared calmly at the four quest branches displayed by the system.
"Branch four, obviously," he said without hesitation.
Lynn perched on the counter, plopped the blood infant down on the table, and tapped briskly on an abacus with a solemn expression. "I'm a doctor. If someone leaves their baby with me and I hack her to pieces, that'd make me a psychopath. My moral code won't let me do that."
...
"I'm this professional and ethical—aren't you gonna throw me a bone, system?"
[Ding! +10 Morality.]
...
Lynn grabbed his knife and leaned against the counter, waiting for new customers. Two minutes later, he glanced down at the infant—and his eyes narrowed. Her tiny body had twisted into a grotesque, writhing braid-like shape, sinews and flesh contorting unnaturally.
[Lynn's Sanity: -1]
Five minutes passed, and he checked again. Small, pulsating blood tumors had sprouted all over her face, oozing thick fluid, while a hoarse, gurgling wail emanated from her black, gaping mouth.
[Lynn's Sanity: -10]
Ten minutes later, when Lynn looked up once more, her face was crawling with twisted tentacles and intestine-like black growths, tangling and writhing as if alive.
[Lynn's Sanity: -30]
Lynn's eyes twitched violently. The system was right—if left unchecked, this infant would distort into something truly indescribable!
No way! he thought. At this rate, not only will the Pig-Headed Fiend fail to recognize his own daughter, but I'll lose my mind first! She's hideous—horrifyingly, nauseatingly hideous!
Lynn stood up, his expression darkening into a fierce scowl (╬￣皿￣) as he cracked his knuckles. "Fine, I'll cut you a break. A free facelift—so you stop scaring me now and terrorizing others later!"
He pulled on his mask and gloves, grabbed a thick rope, and tied the squirming infant firmly to the countertop.
Squeak—Squeak—
The twisted tentacles on her face suddenly sprouted countless tiny, jagged mouths, letting out ear-splitting roars at Lynn.
Slap—
Lynn backhanded the tentacles away sharply, flattening them against her face. "Stay put!"
He slid his monocle into place, his expression cold and impassive, then cracked his knuckles again. Reaching out, he grabbed the writhing mass of tentacles and flesh on her face, kneading them roughly as if working with dough.
"Waaah—Waaah— " A shrill, terrified screech echoed from the infant's body, muffled by the squelch of her own flesh.
[Evil Spirit Blood Infant's Fear: +10]
Facelifts were a craft. Though Lynn had never performed one before, he was quite skilled at molding clay—and in a twisted way, this wasn't all that different.
The first step, of course, was to mash all the messy, slimy gunk on her face into a smooth, uniform mass. It needed to be plump and pliable to lay the perfect foundation for shaping.
[Evil Spirit Blood Infant's Fear: +10]
Kneading this "dough" required finesse—neither too dry nor too slimy, just the right balance of elasticity and toughness. It was also a brutal test of strength.
"Stop moving," Lynn said, his face set in a stern frown. "Since I delivered you, as a doctor, I'm obligated to keep you healthy for the time being. Don't worry—I'll fix your face."
He put to use the noodle-pulling skills he'd learned before crossing over. After kneading the flesh mass thoroughly, he pulled it outward sharply, stretching it to twice its original size.
[Evil Spirit Blood Infant's Fear: +20]
He twisted it into a tight braid and smashed it back onto her face.
[Evil Spirit Blood Infant's Fear: +20]
Pull again—twist twice more—and press down hard. He worked the slimy, revolting substance until it was uniform and springy, while the infant's terrified wails grew louder and more desperate.
[Evil Spirit Blood Infant's Fear: +20]
Knock—Knock—Knock—
A slow, heavy knock echoed at the door. Lynn glanced up to see a humanoid creature covered in charred scars, its face oozing yellow pus. Thick, stinking crimson mucus dripped constantly from its empty eye sockets, leaving dark streaks down its charred cheeks.
"I… want a new face… " a low, crackling voice rumbled from its scorched throat, as if its vocal cords were fused together.
Lynn's gaze flickered, and a system prompt popped up.
[Burned Ghost]
[Race: Evil Spirit]
[Level: 15]
[Alignment: Chaotic Neutral]
[Combat Ability: Average]
[Description: An evil spirit burned alive in a fire. 99.9% of its body is scorched black. Its personality is twisted and gloomy, harboring great malice toward all things beautiful.]
[Ding! Quest Triggered: Help the Burned Ghost get a new face. Reward: 50 Skull Coins, +50 Surgical XP, 1 Special Reward.]
"Welcome! Please take a seat over there and wait a moment!" Lynn poked his head out from behind the counter, a bright, professional smile playing on his lips—completely ignoring the squirming infant in front of him.
Squelch—
Pus and thick fluid from a crushed tumor on the infant's face splattered onto Lynn's mask. The Burned Ghost froze mid-step, its body going rigid.
"Please be seated. I'll be right with you, " Lynn said, his smile never fading.
He turned his full attention back to the tied infant. To speed things up, he used both hands, grabbing the sides of the kneaded flesh mass and yanking it outward.
"Waaaah— " A bloodcurdling shriek tore from the infant's body, echoing through the shop.
Lynn twisted the flesh into a braid and slammed it back onto her face.
"Aaaah— " The infant trembled violently, her tiny body convulsing against the ropes.
He flipped her onto her back, pressed her firmly against the counter, and kneaded the twisted flesh on her face with even more force—wet, squelching sounds filling the air.
"Almost done. Please be patient, " Lynn looked up, giving the Burned Ghost a sincere, reassuring smile as it sat on a nearby chair.
The Burned Ghost stared dazedly at the horrifying scene on the counter, its charred jaw hanging open. Its legs began to shake uncontrollably, knocking against the chair legs.
With a sharp yank, Lynn stretched the infant's facial flesh two full feet outward.
The Burned Ghost froze, eyes wide: "!!!"
[Burned Ghost's Sanity: -20!]
Knead—then Lynn grabbed a rolling pin from under the counter.
Slosh—Slosh—
He rolled the infant's face flat as a pancake, the tiny spirit letting out frantic, squeaking cries of terror. The pustules all over the Burned Ghost's body trembled, oozing more pus.
[Burned Ghost's Sanity: -20!]
Something's wrong! Terribly wrong! the Burned Ghost screamed inwardly. This isn't a potion shop—it's a den of horrors!
It held out a charred, trembling hand. "M-May I ask… are you… "
Lynn glanced up mid-knead, his hands still working the infant's flesh like dough, and gave it a warm, professional smile. "Oh, this little one is just too ugly—pollutingly ugly. As a doctor, it's my duty to give her a normal face."
The Burned Ghost jolted, as if struck by lightning. It stared at Lynn, its empty eye sockets wide with terror.
"Y-Your methods are… quite unique… " it stammered, its voice cracking.
Its body went rigid, its charred eyes bulging. The hunched posture it had maintained for years straightened unconsciously, as if overcome by primal fear. It watched as the infant's face was stretched, twisted, and kneaded like noodles—and its legs shook even harder.
A horrifying image flashed in its mind: its own charred face being pulled and mashed by this mad doctor's hands.
Panic surged through the Burned Ghost. Did I walk into a black shop?!
Just as the thought crossed its mind—
Pop—Pop—Pop—
Lynn reached out and popped a dozen newly sprouted tumors on the infant's face, one after another. Thick, stinking fluid splattered everywhere—some even hitting the Burned Ghost's cheek.
It's bursting! They're bursting! the Burned Ghost shrieked inwardly.
"Mamaaaa! (ΩДΩ)!!" it shrieked, a sound halfway between a wail and a gurgle—raw with terror.
[Burned Ghost's Sanity: -30!!]